


Just One

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-25
Updated: 2008-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 'jumper ride back to Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One

The royal artists were an accomplished bunch – not only had they managed to whip up a more-than-lifesized-portrait of the Pilgrimage on short notice, they'd made several hundred four-by-six versions for dissemination among the general populace.

"You should take these to your homeworld, that all might know of your bravery," Harmony said, handing two dozen to Rodney, and a couple more to John.

John flipped one over. "I'll use these right up," he said, deadpan. "Dear Larin – spent the last two days . . ."

"Yes, well, that's quite enough of that," Rodney said, snatching the postcards out of John's hand. "Come on, Colonel. I'll escort you back to the 'jumper. Wouldn't want you to get ambushed by – "

" – I was just gonna say goodbye to her sister . . ."

" – sisters." Rodney spun John around by his elbow. "Nice to see everyone. Excellent . . . pie." He gestured to the buffet table at the back of the banquet hall. "See you, um, around. Sometime."

"I will be in touch, Doctor McKay!" called Harmony.

John coughed into his hand

"Shut up," Rodney hissed. He looked back over his shoulder. "Lovely! I'll look forward to, uh . . ." Ducking his head, he tightened his grip on John's arm and quickened the pace.

The 'jumper smelled reassuring – Marine socks, alien mud, a long-ago spilled MRE that no amount of scrubbing by Atlantis' equivalent of roombas had managed to erase. Rodney stuffed the postcards in his backpack, creasing most of them, causing one to tear.

"Not planning on framing those?" John drawled.

"Much as the idea makes me warm and fuzzy on numerous levels – no, no I am not," Rodney replied, sliding into the co-pilot seat and pulling up the HUD. "I'd rather forget this – _experience_ as soon as possible."

"Aw, c'mon," John smirked. "You're the big damn hero. Don't you want to be the big damn hero?"

"Not particularly," Rodney said witheringly. "I have no desire to be the object of anyone's crush, much less that of a thirteen-year-old brat."

"You applauded." John pointed out nonchalantly. "At the ceremony. You applauded the painting."

"Well." Rodney squared his shoulders. "She was ogling you. I felt – petty."

John threw him a look. " _Who_ was ogling me."

"Please. Pretty, pretty princess number one. The – " he waved a hand. "Non-fratricidal variety."

"She wasn't trying to kill her brother."

Rodney rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes, and fratricide is the term applied to any idea of killing a sibling, thank you. Patriarchy, alive and well and living in Webster's . . ."

"I mean, wouldn't it be, I don't know, sororicide?"

"Whatever," Rodney snipped. "The point is, someone was eyeing your sperm for a deposit in the bank of – "

John pulled a face. "Jesus, Rodney."

"Don't you archaically blaspheme me! I know that look! I have seen that look on the faces of many women the length and breadth of this galaxy. It's a look that says plainly – this man has swimmers and I have . . . a . . . pool."

John snorted. "Pool?"

"Shut up."

John adjusted their heading, gave a nudge to the 'jumper's internal temp. "You're pretty cranky for a guy who just got given the medal of Ashwisnaugh."

Rodney stared down at his chest with a bitter expression on his face. "Forgive me for getting cranky, as you so delicately put it, when my – " He waved a hand in John's direction, " – _thing_ is being ogled."

"I thought you said she was ogling _my_ thing."

"Things. Things is her, thing is me, singular, attached to, fucking whenever possible, thing."

"Boyfriend?"

"If you _must_ go there, then yes."

"You're my boyfriend, Rodney," John sing-songed.

"And I wouldn't have been had I left you on that planet unattended for one second more. This is my point! Are we up to date now? Good. Can you fly this thing faster?"

"Nah." John scratched his belly. "But hey – flattered that you think I'm your thing."

"Yes, right, sure. Just fly."

"No, really. I mean – "

"Do you know she asked me for love advice?"

John looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. "Who did?"

"Harmony."

John blinked. "She asked _you_ for advice?"

"Because you'd have been the better option? How to Go to Another Galaxy and Get Played by Every Woman Imaginable, All While Liking Cock, Cock, Cock." Rodney tugged at his jacket. "She asked me. About love, yes."

John blinked again. "Well that's – "

"Specifically, she wanted advice about being in love with _you_."

"Well, she got over that pretty quickly."

Rodney squinted at him. "You sound injured. Oh my _god_ , are you actually – did she _hurt your feelings_ by getting over her _crush_ on you?

John squirmed. "No."

"Exactly how many people do you need to be in love with you at any one time in order to feel – " Rodney waved both hands this time. "Valuable! Whole! Decidedly not sulky? God, I can't believe you're sulking."

"I am not sulking," John pouted.

"Yes, you are. You're sulking. You're pouting and sulking and squirming in your chair, despite the fact that you, by your own admission, have a _boyfriend_ and – "

"Hey, now," John said, frowning. "I didn't mean that I didn't – I . . . I am _not_ sulking."

"Fine."

John shifted uncomfortably. "And I only need." He swallowed. "One."

"One _what_? Kick in the head? Only too happy to help, just bend at the waist, I'm wearing handy boots, I've been practicing my lunges, I can – "

John grimaced. "One person."

"One person, _what?_ "

John turned a vague purplish color. "To – " He gestured, gritting his teeth. "Love me," he ground out.

Rodney blinked at him. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And that would be – "

"You. Yeah." John wrinkled his nose.

"Oh."

"So – you know. Sorry about the – when she asked you . . ."

Rodney was studying his hands. "I only need one too, you know," he blurted.

John glanced at him and then away. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Well."

"So." Rodney scratched his knee. "So."

"Wanna make out later?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Anything you want. Just get us home. Away from princesses. Of all kinds." He pondered for a second. "Except you."

"I'm a princess now?"

"Always have been. Fly, Jasmine, fly."


End file.
